Just Joe by Marley Morgan Read Free Book Online Page B

joyful outcry of
"Joe!" from a score of childish voices, then a mass rush toward their
hero. Mattie almost went down in the onslaught— would have, in fact, had it not
been for Joe's protective grip around her waist. Mattie didn't even think about
being afraid of his touch. She just felt... warm.
    Joe, meanwhile, was
greeting each child by name with a smile and a special comment. "Jimmy,
have you been practicing your pitching? One of our Texas teams is sure going to
need you in a couple of years." Or, "Mandy, you got your shoes on the
right feet! But I see you saved me the honor of lacing them up, at least.''
And, to one of the children in a wheelchair, "Tomas, I hear you've got
that chair doing wheelies and burning rubber. Practicing for the Indy
500?"
    The children plainly
adored him. Mattie felt her heart melting and forming a puddle at her feet. He
had probably spent his whole life healing birds with broken wings in one form
or another.
    Mattie turned away to scan
the room with intense interest. She inched closer to Joe to make herself heard
over the excited babble of children hanging on him.
    "She doesn't appear
to have joined your fan club." Mattie nodded to a little girl, perhaps
seven or eight years old, who sat alone on the opposite side of the room. She
exhibited no interest in their arrival, not even raising her eyes to them. It
was as though she were in a separate room and alone within its walls.
    "That's Janie."
Joe's voice was steady, but grim enough to draw Mattie's eyes to his face
questioningly. There she saw the tightness of his jaw and a kind of fierce
anger banked in his eyes. "And no, I wouldn't say she's a fan of mine—or any
man."
    "Is she a problem
child?" Mattie probed tentatively.
    "No more than she's
been forced to be," Joe answered enigmatically.
    "What do you
mean?"
    Joe did not immediately
answer. Instead he bent down to the clutch of children surrounding them and
instructed them to choose sides for what was evidently a well-worn tradition
when Joe visited—a football game. They went scurrying outside with shrieks of
joy. Only then did Joe turn back to face Mattie.
    "Joe...?"
    "Janie was sexually
abused by her father from the time she was four years old," he told her
with a kind of restrained grimness that only served to emphasize his fury.
"She does not communicate well with people as a result of that abuse. She
is terrified of men in general, and perhaps me more than most, they tell me,
because of my size." Joe's tone, if possible, became even grimmer.
"Her father was evidently my height and weight, so naturally she feels I'm
going to hurt her the way that bastard did."
    There was real pain in
Joe's voice, but Mattie, pale and trembling, barely heard it.
    "Her father?"
she repeated hoarsely. "Her own father did—that to her?"
    "Janie's mother
finally found out what was going on," Joe continued flatly. "Oh, not
because Janie told her—the scum told Janie her mother would be angry with her
if she found out that he loved Janie more than he loved her mother. Janie's
mother just came home unexpectedly, and—" Joe broke off in disgust, his
eyes focused on Janie across the room. "They divorced. Janie's mother was
brave enough—or foolish enough—to press charges. He was convicted, and now on
top of everything else, Janie lives with the fact that her father is in prison
because of her. At least, that s how she sees it. There are no winners in a
situation like that, just losers. They lost all the way around. Janie lost a
father, her mother lost a husband, and he killed something inside of that child
that could have been so beautiful—"
    Joe broke off abruptly as
his eyes moved from Janie to Mattie. Her face was white, completely drained of
color, and her lips, pressed tightly together to prevent them from trembling,
were bloodless.
    "Mattie! Are you all
right? You look like you're going to faint." His arm moved to support her
but dropped immediately as she struggled from his hold.
    "Mattie?"